January 9, 2011
Somehow T-Dog had become their primary carpenter and builder, though others assisted him. It was probably because he didn't hunt or garden or farm, and he was as strong as an ox. And though he was a good builder, with all the excitement of Rick's visit, T-Dog had forgotten to fortify that weakness in the chain link fence.
Early in the morning, three walkers pushed on it hard enough to bend a section down almost to the ground. They were able to slither up and over it like hungry snakes and begin lurching their way through the park.
Sophia and Mika had been the first to see them. They'd been playing by the train – Mika pretending to be an engineer – when the creatures had come lurching down the tracks. Instead of running for the adults, Sophia took it upon herself to dispense with the monsters. She killed two with her wakizashi but wasn't quite quick enough before the third had grasped her.
Mika ran to help, her knife drawn, and stabbed it its arm, which caused the walker to let go of Sophia and turn on Mika. Her big knife was stuck in its arm, so Mika pulled her second, smaller one as the walker bent down to bite her. She drove that knife straight in its forehead, just as Sophia brought her wakizashi down on its neck to decapitate it.
When Sophia and Mika came to the petting zoo where Carol was gathering eggs from the chicken coop, their winter coats covered in blood and guts, Carol screamed and dropped the basket. Several of the eggs shattered inside. She ran to the girls and began feeling them all over for bite marks.
"It's okay, Mama," Sophia assured her. "It's fine. They didn't get us. We got them."
Sophia explained what had happened. Carol wasn't sure whether to scold her daughter for taking on three walkers by herself with little Mika to think of, or to be proud of both Sophia and Mika for what they'd accomplished. Mika had never killed a walker before. She was only ten, and just barely. Carol had taught her to use a knife on balloons and other targets, but she was planning to wait a while longer before making her kill one of the monsters. She didn't think Mika was ready to handle the fear, but the little girl had proved her wrong. When there was a threat to Sophia, she'd stepped in and done what needed to be done.
So, Carol did neither – she neither scolded nor congratulated at the moment. Instead, she leapt to action. She hollered to Hershel, who was milking a cow, to stop what he was doing and help her lock all the animals in the barn and stables in case walkers were loose. Sophia and Mika helped. Then she brought the kids and Hershel back to the House of the Future. She herded Luke and Andre (who were playing out front) inside and told Beth to watch over the kids.
Next, she called Daryl on her walkie talkie to see if he was still on perimeter check. "Yeah. Ain't seen any walkers, but I found a section of the fence bent down," he muttered. "T-Dog didn't fix this shit! You tellin' me Soph and Mika almost got killed? Over."
"Save the anger," Carol told him. "They're both fine. Get Dixon to get on his motorcycle, too, and both of you ride all over the park – every path you can find – and sweep it for anymore walkers. I'll get a team on that fence."
Carol asked Glenn, T-Dog, Maggie, and Patricia to go repair the fence while Michonne stood guard over them. T-Dog was penitent, repeatedly apologizing for forgetting to reinforce it. "Just go!" Carol shouted. "Just go and do it!" T-Dog ran for the pick-up to go gather supplies from the site where a new roller coaster was being constructed when the park shut down. Patricia jumped in the cab while Glenn, Maggie, and Michonne vaulted into the bed as the truck peeled off.
The kids safely in the house, Carol ran to the Castle Tower Slides and up the stairs to survey the park through the scope of her rifle.
By the end of the day, the excitement was over. The girls were cleaned up, the park was cleared – they'd checked everywhere - and the fence was repaired. No more walkers had made their way inside. The repair team had ripped out that section of chain link and put in a whole new sturdy wood section reinforced with sheet metal and topped with barbwire.
Nothing much else was accomplished that day, though Beth managed to make them all dinner while the excitement was unfurling, and they sat down, relieved and weary, at the table.
"I'm really sorry," T-Dog said again.
"You best be grateful the girls are good walker slayers," Daryl told him.
January 12, 2011
3:05 P.M.
Gavin opened the door of the harem Negan had begun to build since seizing control over the Sanctuary from its former ruler. Gavin and a few others had joined Negan's rebellion. He hadn't supported Negan out of any sense of loyalty; he just thought Negan would win, and Negan's supporters would be rewarded with promotion while the supporters of the old leader would be slaughtered.
Here comes the new boss, Gavin thought, same as the old boss.
Although not quite the same. Negan hadn't slaughtered all of the old leader's supporters after all. The ones who had laid down their arms when Negan's victory became increasingly clear, he'd forgiven – with the caveat that they must "work off their disloyalty." In Negan's new point system, that meant they began with a negative balance.
Instead of driving the workers primarily by armed guard, as the old boss had done, Negan had developed a point system to motivatethem. Everyone, even the lieutenants, had to work for points, though the lieutenants were paid far more points for their efforts. They could all trade those points for food and other goods in the Sanctuary's marketplace, as well as for privileges and better housing.
The most attractive women could earn points another way, if they chose. Gavin supposed that was a step up from the intermittent violent rapes the old boss had conducted, but not much of a step up. One of Negan's current wives was the daughter of a surrendered supporter of the old leader, while two were former wives of supporters. They were essentially working off the debts of their men to save them from execution.
"Sorry to interrupt," Gavin said. "We caught something strange on the radio."
Negan drew his hand out from under Tanya's skirt and pushed her bare legs off his lap and stood from the couch. "Your timing could not be worse, Gavin. My balls are going to be bluer than Papa Smurf riding on a blueberry!"
Gavin hid his expression as he turned from the door. He didn't want Negan to see how little he thought of his metaphors. He also didn't want to look at his baby sister straightening her skirt. Tanya had been the fourth of Negan's wives, but likely not the last. She had no debt to work off, but she'd chosen the comfort of the harem over the drudgery of hard labor. Gavin didn't like to think about her choice. He'd told her that as a lieutenant, he would earn enough points to feed them both. But Tanya wanted more than to be fed. She wanted the electric heat of the harem, the occasional chocolate and wine, the good food, the fancy clothes, and the freedom from working the yard or digging her fingers through the dirt of the rooftop gardens. She'd put herself through culinary school on the stripper's pole. Perhaps this was little different to her, and Negan wasn't going to pay her enough points just to cook.
Negan followed Gavin to the radio room where Simon sat at the controls and Arat sat beside him. "Have we located ourselves a new community to pay tribute?" Negan asked. "Because I would love to expand our fiefdom."
They'd been collecting from the Hilltop Colony ever since the old boss, but Negan had been deliberately looking for "more sources of revenue." Regina was already running an outpost near the Viskoll Public Library to make the weekly collections from a community there. And Simon was leaving with a crew tomorrow to initiate collections from a large community of men, women, and children living in the Hallowbrant Outreach Recovery Center. And there was another lead – Gavin had come across two men on horseback wearing silver armor like something out of a Renaissance festival. He'd tried to follow them back to their camp but had lost them in the woods. It was only a matter of time, though, before the Saviors learned where those quirky knights lived. Gavin was hoping he could work out a quiet deal with the leader and not have to hurt anyone, because Negan would make him hurt someone if they didn't comply.
"We're not sure," Simon said. "Her code name is Warrior Princess. We didn't catch his. No clue as to where they're located, but I don't think they're in the area. They keep talking about Rome and Egypt. Warrior Princess is from Egypt and the other one's from Rome."
"Texas maybe," Arat said. "Texas has towns named Rhome and Egypt."
"We can't pick up transmissions all the way from Texas," Gavin told her. "This thing has a range of 600 miles, max, usually far less than that."
"They seem to be talking in some kind of peculiar code about the expansion of their camp," Simon said. "And maybe an attack they're planning on another camp?" He turned up the volume.
"I'm constructing additional passageways," came a youthful male voice. "Beyond the tavern. Over."
"So, we'll pick up where we left off on 11311?' came a girl's voice. "Over."
"What the hell is 11311?" Arat asked. "Is that a date?"
"Maybe," Simon replied.
"Yes," continued the male voice, "and I think you were going to make an attack of opportunity. But remember your armor class is only ten. Over."
"Well, I guess I'll just have to use my charisma, then," said the girl.
"Charisma!" Negan exclaimed. "Now that's how I like to do it!"
"And I'll make use of my..." The girls voice was overcome by static.
"The transmission comes in and out like that," Simon explained. "But they're clearly planning some kind of an attack."
"...going to have to ask you to do an ability check before you can succeed on that action," the young male voice came in clearly now. "And then we'll procceed…" Fuzz now overcame the voice until only stray words punctured through the static.
Negan laughed, that laugh that was like nails on a chalkboard to Gavin, smug and exaggerated. His laugh tapered off to a titter. "Holy shit!" Negan exclaimed. "I have to admit that is one awesome-sounding game of D&D."
"What?" Simon asked.
"Oh gentlemen, gentlemen…" Negan nodded to Arat "and lady. Have none of you ever had the mind-numbing pleasure to play Dungeons and Dragons? I mean, Arat's too young, maybe, I'll give her a pass, but you two! You both came of age in the 70s and 80s!"
Simon and Gavin exchanged a glance.
"Although the kids were still playing it in 2009, back in my former gym teacher days." Negan lifted his barbwire-laced bat into an upright position and put two hands around the base. "The ones who couldn't throw or hit a ball anyway." He swung the bat through the air as if preparing to connect with a ptich.
"You're saying they aren't planning an attack?" Simon asked.
"It's a couple of kids!" Negan waved his bat toward the radio. "Getting their D&D on! You know what? When you go to collect tribute, tell them we want a nice D&D starter set. Make sure it has a kick ass DM screen and a good sturdy set of dice."
The static ceased and the boy's voice came in clear over the radio again: "…can't wait until you come to trade. Over and out."
"We're not going to be able to tax these camps," Simon told Negan. "They didn't give us any idea where they were located. And with the transmission coming in and out like that, on a rare channel, it's got to be hundreds of miles away. I'm surprised we can even pick up the transmission."
"Hand me that mic," Negan demanded, and Simon did. "Come in, little girl. Come in. Over." Negan waited a minute as only static sounded on the radio and then tried again. "Warrior Princess! Come in! Hey, sweetheart, I got some great D&D tips for you. Over."
"Who the fuck is this?" came an angry male voice in response. "Over."
"I'm just a friend from Rome trying to reach Warrior Princess," Negan replied with a big-toothed smile. "Over."
"Sound like a grown-ass man. What the fuck are you doin' calling my daughter? Callin' her sweetheart? Goodman perv. Next time I'm in Rome, you better watch out. Gonna find out who you are. Hunt you down and string you up by your balls! Over and out."
Negan let out that laugh again. "Hooooly shit!" he said through his laugh. "Well, I guess we aren't going to get to chat with the princess. And it's too bad we can't find that camp. Because I would love to recruit that angry papa to the Saviors. I bet he'd make a good lieutenant." Negan patted Simon's shoulder and left the radio room.
[*]
Daryl followed the muted sound of gunfire to the old B.B. gun game they'd converted to a range, complete with steel backstop. Carol lay down her handgun on the counter of the game opposite, which was fifty yards. She took the orange ear plugs out of her ear and lifted her safety glasses.
"Didn't mean to interrupt," he said as he strolled to a stop by the booth. "Go on. Wait 'til your done."
"I am. I've shot all my training rations for the week."
"'S only Wednesday."
"I got carried away."
He glanced at her target, where several overlapping bullet holes punctured the paper close together at the head of the silhouette. "Good group."
"No bigger than a quarter," she said proudly. "Yours are usually half dollar size."
"Pfft. Can split an arrow though."
"Really? I've never seen you do that."
"Wouldn't want to waste one," he said, and she smiled. "Listen. Gotta have one of them parentin' discussions."
"Oh?" Carol asked as she dropped her magazine, checked for a round in the chamber, and then locked her handgun open.
"Some perv was tryin' to call Soph. On the CB. Could tell he was a grown-ass man from his voice. Knew her call sign somehow, so he must hover round the radio sometimes. Called her sweetheart."
"Really?"
"Soph said he ain't never talked to her before, and she didn't recognize his voice."
"Well, that is concerning. We better have a talk with Sheriff Tara on the next trade trip. Find out if Woodbury has any potential sex offenders."
"Probably that Axel fucker. I bet that's what he was in prison for."
Carol shook her head. "Axel is harmless. He was in prison for committing armed robbery with a squirt gun."
"How you know that? He chat you up when we were there?"
"Yes, he chatted me up," Carol replied. "I'm a big girl, Daryl. I can handle myself."
"Know that." He nodded at the gun she'd set down. "Damn well know that. But that don't mean I have to like Axel. Or Tom the Head Electrician."
Carol chuckled. "You don't like anybody."
"Like you. Hell of a lot."
"Just remember. I liked you first."
"Pfft. Ain't sure 'bout that. Ain't even quite sure why you like me now. But I'll take it."
"It's because you're a good student in bed," she told him with a smirk. Carol reloaded her weapon, put the safety on, and slid it into her holster. "You told Sophia to tell us if that man ever tries to call her again?"
Daryl nodded.
"Then we'll let it go for now and bring it up with Tara when we go for the next trade trip. I'm hungry. You up for a lunch date?"
"Sure. 'Specially if there's a nap after lunch."
"Well…" Carol smiled. "That all depend on how good a sandwich you make me, Pookie."